The Shroud Codex - Jerome R. Corsi [78]
Castle reminded himself that Bartholomew had told him much the same thing, that finding God involved an experience, not an intellectual exercise.
“One thing about what Dr. Silver said bothers me,” Anne said, with a concerned look on her face.
“What’s that?” Castle asked.
“If Dr. Silver is right, how would we ever be sure anything happening here is the way we think it is happening?”
“I’ve dealt with that question for decades in psychiatry,” Castle said. “Today was the first time I realized that physicists are asking the exact same question.”
“Does anyone have an answer?” Anne wanted to know.
“I doubt it,” Castle said with resignation. “I go about my job every day confident I see the world the way it truly is. But truthfully, I don’t know.”
“Wasn’t that Dr. Silver’s point?” Anne speculated.
“What’s that?” Castle asked.
“When it comes to somebody as brilliant as my brother, maybe nobody can ever be sure what is real. That’s what I think Dr. Silver was trying to tell us today.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Saturday
New York City
Day 17
Castle began the weekend thinking about Anne. Sitting at his desk and sorting through his correspondence, he came across an invitation to attend a black-tie charity dinner that night at one of his favorite French restaurants. Castle had put the invitation aside, thinking he would figure out who to ask to be his date, but when Father Bartholomew’s case took center stage, Castle forgot about social obligations, at least for the moment.
On impulse, he called Anne at the Waldorf.
“I know, it’s spur of the moment,” he said, “but why don’t we go to this together tonight. It will be a great meal and the speeches will be mercifully short. If we get bored, we can skip out early.”
“But I didn’t bring any evening clothes with me,” Anne said worriedly. “Otherwise I’d be flattered to be your date tonight. Living in Montreal, I love French cuisine.”
“Evening clothes is a problem we can solve,” Castle said, anticipating he might get to spend the day with Anne. “You’re just a few blocks from Saks and I can easily swing by with my limo. I don’t very often get the chance to buy a fashionable evening gown for a beautiful woman.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Anne said, happy Castle couldn’t see her blushing. “Give me a half hour and I’ll be downstairs at the Towers entrance.”
“You’ve got a deal,” Castle said with enthusiasm, as he headed off to make sure he looked his best to impress the young woman who was rapidly capturing his eye.
At Saks, Castle found himself actually enjoying shopping, especially with Anne willing to flirt as she changed dresses, trying to make up her mind.
“Don’t worry about the cost,” Castle told her. “You’re my guest tonight.”
Anne selected what Castle thought was a particularly stunning full-length black strapless evening gown that came with a matching cashmere shawl designed to keep her shoulders warm. The Saks sales staff had no trouble finding the perfect Italian-made black shoes and just-right color of sheer Italian nylons to go with the outfit. As Anne twirled this way and that with the cashmere shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, Castle marveled at how perfectly her choice highlighted her blond hair and deep brown eyes.
On the way back to the Waldorf, Castle said, “I will come up to the suite to pick you up at seven tonight.”
“I’ll be ready,” she said with anticipation, thinking this day was already one of the best dates she had ever had.
With Anne safely back in the Waldorf, Castle took the limo to Beth Israel. He wanted to pay Father Bartholomew a professional visit.
At the hospital, Castle found Father Bartholomew resting alone and comfortably in what had become his private ICU room.
Castle read Bartholomew’s chart and quickly examined his wounds. From all signs, Bartholomew was recovering rapidly, much as Castle had expected, despite the severity of wounds that should have killed